


i left my heart in the pages of your favourite story

by gracecavendish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A little mayward too, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Literary Nerds Au, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:32:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracecavendish/pseuds/gracecavendish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leo Fitz finds a red notebook in-between his favourite novels at the Strand bookstore one week before Christmas, it becomes his way of playing Jemma Simmons’ game of back and forth. Rather quickly, Fitz becomes intrigued and infatuated by a girl he's never even met, just poured his heart out to in the pages of her little red notebook.<br/>Loosely based on 'Dash & Lily's Book of Dares' by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i left my heart in the pages of your favourite story

Living in New York City certainly did have its benefits, one of them being the vast array of novels available at the Strand Book Store, to which Leo Fitz was no stranger. So it came as a slight surprise when a slim red moleskin notebook resided on the shelves of his favourite author’s section. So like any normal curious human, he opened it.

 

_Dear person who has opened this notebook,_

_I have left clues for you,_

_If you want them, turn the page_

_If you don’t, put the book back on the shelf, please_

 

Fitz could automatically tell it was a girl’s handwriting, the fancy cursive alone gave her away. Following her introductory paragraph; questions followed. 

 

_Now before we continue I must ask you a few questions.  
Are you a teenage boy? If yes, turn the page, if no please place this back where you found it._

_  
_Fitz could confirm that he was in fact, male, and of the appropriate age group at seventeen.

Underneath the questions lay a series of book titles, and fill-in-the-blanks. For some reason or another, Fitz was intrigued, wanting to complete the puzzle.

It resulted in a certain amount of embarrassment. Searching the shelves for a copy of _French Pianism_ hadn’t been too bad, but having to leaf through _The Joy of Gay Sex_ was certainly something he’d ever imagined himself doing. He prayed desperately nobody he knew caught him in such a compromising position. A question followed the instructions for that one.

 

_Is this book something you already own or would find useful in your future? If so our time must end here, for this girl goes for boy-girl, and if you’re for boy-boy, I fully support that, but don’t see where I would fit into the picture._

 

After going through several various novels that filled the high shelves of the store, he was instructed to look through a copy of _What the Living Do?_ by Marie Howe, a poem Fitz was rather fond of. And one they’d he’d never been able to discuss with anyone, his best friend Ward not exactly being the poetry type, increasing his desire to learn more about the mysterious stranger giving him instructions through a notebook. Finally, the message was clear.

 

_Are you going to be playing for the pure thrill of unreluctant desire?_

_  
_Fitz couldn’t help but feel a little confused and aroused at the phrasing.

 

_If you wish to continue this conversation, please choose a book, any book, leave a slip with your email address inside and hand it to Skye at the desk._

_If you ask Skye any questions about me she will not pass on your book._

_So don’t ask._

_Once you have given Skye your book please place this notebook back on the shelf where you found it._

_If you do all these things you might hear from me._

_Thank you,_

_Jemma_

 

Fitz grinned, walking over to the desk and holding onto the notebook.

Two could play at this game.

 

*

 

The flashing of her phone distracted Jemma Simmons from the book at her desk of which she was pouring over, and upon seeing it was from her cousin Skye, she opened the message immediately.

_You’ve got a taker at the Strand, left a message for you_

Jemma speedily typed her response,

_What did he look like???????_

_Blond/light brown curly hair, blue jumper. Nerdy/adorable type. Pretty cute. Left you a note, took the notebook._

Jemma tried to envision herself with the boy Skye had described, however without a real description she found it very difficult to conjure up a face. Jemma sighed, texting back Skye with her reply.

_I’ll be there soon, leaving now._

Pulling on her dark green coat Jemma grabbed her bag and ran out the door. She couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement and a twinge of nerves. This was Skye’s idea in the first place, well getting a boyfriend was, and leaving the notebook at the Strand. Jemma had filled up the pages with her own ideas. She had been very sceptical at first, when she came to America to live with her Aunt and Uncle having a boyfriend was hardly her top priority. After spending her previous schooling years at an all-girls boarding school, she hadn’t had a vast experience with the male species. Or rather, any experience at all. Moving to New York had been…difficult. And although she was grateful for the opportunity to attend one of the city’s most prestigious institutions of education on a full scholarship, part of her still missed her old life in England. Being a seventeen year old English girl in New York often made her feel incredibly isolated.

Once she reached the Strand she made for the desk where Skye sat. She handed Jemma the envelope without hesitation.

“Enjoy,” Skye said, sliding back into her seat. “Oh and I accidentally let your last name slip, sorry about that.” Jemma rolled her eyes at Skye’s admission before returning her attention back to what the stranger had left her.

The envelope contained a message…and a menu.

One for a diner, she’d walked past often but never been to. Lots of kids from her school went there, giving her more reason not to go.

“I hope you’re worth it, mystery boy.”

 

_It’s been a pleasure getting to know you so far,_

_But if you want your notebook back here’s a game of my own._

_When you reach the place I have given you, go to the table at the back by the window._

_Between the sugar and napkins, leave me your message._

_Fitz_

 

Jemma didn’t hesitate. She made her way to the place he’d instructed, battling through the heavy Christmas crowds as she walked to busy streets. Once arriving went to where he’d instructed, finding the notebook waiting for her, in which she scribbled her reply. Luckily the table had been empty. But she wasn’t finished.

Jemma walked cautiously to the counter, trying to act smooth and mysterious.

“Hello, I was wondering if I could buy something for someone?”

 

*

 

“So you’re having a sordid affair with a girl you’ve never even met?” 

Fitz had barely stopped reading her response ever since he’d arrived. He was glad to see she’d followed through on his request for a response. However he had not expected this Jemma Simmons to buy him a milkshake of all things to accompany it.

 

_My gift to you,_

_Merry Christmas_

_I hope you like strawberry._

_I’m impressed with your ability to turn me own game against me in a way._

_Would it be too forward of me to say I’m glad you did?_

_It seems unfair that you know more about me than I do you_

_So in your next response please tell me about the following,_

_Your favourite Christmas memory_

_Please take your response to Macy’s store, kids woollens section, ask for Melinda._

_I look forward to your reply,_

_Jemma_

 

“I’m not having a ‘sordid affair’ for christ sake Ward,” Fitz retorted, “I’ve just started uh, writing to her I guess. It’s a game of sorts.”

“A game huh?” A smirk appeared on Ward’s face, apparently the idea of Fitz having any sort of love life was enough to create a shift from his usual stoic nature.

“Do you know what she looks like?” He asked, Fitz shook his head.  
“Do you know her last name?”

“Simmons, Jemma Simmons,” Fitz answered reluctantly. Ward smacked his arm,

“Well look her up! Surely she has some sort of online, I don’t know, presence?” Fitz rolled his eyes.

“I don’t really want to, I don’t know, it’d feel like I was cheating.” Ward scoffed,  
“Fine, but I’m not part of your weird sexual stranger game so there’s nothing to stop me from checking out this girl, make sure she’s not a forty year old man in disguise.” Fitz waved his hand in acceptance as he lent back into his chair.

“Fine, do it.” Ward gave him another smirk before pulling out his phone. A few minutes later he reached a result.

“Aha! Found her Facebook, well at least I think it’s her. Says her location’s New York.” 

“What does it say?” Fitz asked anxiously, Ward scrolled down before pausing and raising his eyebrows.

“What is it?” Fitz demanded, Ward shook his head slowly,

“I feel like I’m looking at your nerdy equivalent, a much better looking equivalent though.” Fitz sat up,

“Let me see,” he made to grab the phone out of Ward’s hand but snatched it back. Damn him and his sharp reflexes.

“No, you said you didn’t want to see,” he reminded his friend. Fitz reached out again, leaning over the table.

“I said I didn’t want to look her up, you did that for me. Now it’s right there I have to look!” He swung his arm to grab the phone but Ward pulled back further.

“Nope, not letting you have it monkey.” Fitz sat back down with a grumble, folding his arms and glaring at his friend.

“I’ll tell you this, she’s pretty, in that demure and polite way that you seem so fond of. Hey, maybe she hails from across the pond like you!” 

Fitz rolled his eyes at that, _doubt it,_ he thought to himself.

 

*

Fitz knew this was a bad idea as soon as he and Ward entered the department store, Macy’s, a mere few days before Christmas. What had Jemma been thinking?  
They pushed through the crowd, Fitz nearly knocking over a display and Ward almost crashing into a pram. When they reached the section Jemma had directed them to he breathed a sigh of relief.

Until he saw who was waiting for him.

The woman had sleek dark hair and a steely gaze, her name tag reading _Melinda,_ much to Fitz’s disappointment, he didn’t think he’d ever been so scared of anyone in his life.

Ward on the other hand looked delighted. Fitz approached her desk tentatively,

“Uh, hello, I’m here about a, uh, notebook?” Melinda appeared unfazed, 

“Yes,” she responded sharply. Ward nudged Fitz and leaned over the desk.

“Hi, my friend and I are here about a girl, you see he’s completely infatuated, and can barely focus on anything else.”

Fitz hoped that maybe he could die right there and then.

“Anyway, we’ve been instructed to leave his response with you, which I must say has probably been the best part of my day.” Fitz nearly choked,

“Shut it, shut it.” 

Melinda rolled her eyes and her gaze finished on Fitz.

“Give your response to me and I’ll give it to her,” she responded simply. 

“Yes, okay, yes that sounds, yes,” Fitz managed, handing over his note in the blue envelope. They waited a few moments,

“I’m leaving now, you boys should probably leave to,” Melinda said, pulling off her name tag.

“Don’t you have customers to attend?” Fitz asked, confused as why at this time of year with the store so busy she would just leave. Melinda gave him an icy glare,

“I don’t actually work here.” She spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a dazed Ward in her wake.

“You’re amazing!” He called out, Fitz sighed in exasperation, grabbing his friend by the arm and dragging him to the exit.

 

*

 

Jemma was sitting on the comfy arm chair of the living room, thumbing through an old copy of _Harriet The Spy_ when Skye’s phone rang. 

“He left a reply, I’ll bring it now,” 

“Thanks May, I’ll see you soon.” Skye responded. She turned to face her cousin, who had placed her book on the table and was now staring at her anxiously.

“Well?”

“He and apparently one of his friends left May a response, she’s going to bring it by soon.” Jemma grinned,

“It was so nice of your aunt to help out.” Skye shrugged,

“Dad always talks about how she was always doing stuff like this, I don’t think she minded.”

Jemma smiled in response, even though she was a relative of Skye’s from the other side of her family, it meant a lot that Skye’s relations in New York were willing to help her.

An hour later, Melinda arrived at their apartment wearing a black woollen coat and an unreadable expression. 

“Here’s your reply,” she said handing Jemma an envelope. She smiled in gratitude and thanked the woman profusely for her help. She opened it and quickly unfolded the paper, 

 

_I’m sending someone to meet you,_

_Don’t worry he doesn’t bite._

_Tomorrow morning, 11 o’clock at the Angelica Theatre,_

_In front of the popcorn stand._

_He’ll give you your notebook back,_

_You said you wanted to know more about me,_

_I’ve left it in there._

_Yours, Leo Fitz_

 

*

 

The following day Jemma waited anxiously in the spot Fitz had indicated. She felt more than nervous as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her coat. _Who would he send to meet her? What if it was Fitz himself?_

“You’re her!” A voice exclaimed to which Jemma turned to seek, facing her was a tall dark haired boy with an intimidating physique that did not match the goofy grin stretched across his face.

“And you are?”

“Grant, Grant Ward, I’m Fitz’s friend, he told me to come give you this.” He handed over the notebook, Jemma saw a thin black ribbon placed between its pages, she assumed the place where Fitz had begun his reply to her.

“Oh um thank you,’”

“You are English! I knew it!” Jemma raised an eyebrow in confusion,

“Sorry?”

“Oh just I told Fitz that his mystery pen pal would be a fellow Brit.” Jemma’s eyes widened,

“Fitz is British?!”  
“Yeah, well Scottish to be more specific, it’s a miracle I can understand him half the time.” She couldn’t really place why, but for some reason that made her like him even more. Maybe it was the idea that maybe he would understand the idea of calling more than one place home. And if he still retained his accent as Ward had said, he couldn’t have moved too long ago. Maybe he would be the person who finally understood, because she was happy in New York, she really was, but it didn’t stop her from missing England.

_Stop Jemma, you’re getting ahead of yourself, he could’ve hated Scotland for all you know._

“He told me I should wait for your response, so do you want to sit down somewhere? There’s a coffee shop just around the corner.” Jemma eyed him suspiciously,

“You’re not here to interrogate me are you?” Ward laughed and shook his head,

“No, I’m just the messenger. And the uh, delivery man I guess.” Jemma smiled, turning to walk in the direction he’d indicated. 

“Are you allowed to tell me anything about him?” she asked, Ward shook his head.

“Probably not, although I guess yes or no questions wouldn’t be too bad. As long as they don’t relay too much information.” Jemma gave a short nod.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Ward’s eyebrows shot up in surprise,

“What? No! He wouldn’t be doing all this if he did, trust me. Fitz is definitely not the uh ‘player’ type,” Ward stated, “but he’s not incredibly unpopular with women or anything, he’s just uh, he’s nice,” Ward assured. Jemma nodded in understanding, an amused look on her face.

“Nice to know then.” 

“You don’t have a boyfriend do you?” Ward asked cautiously, “because Fitz would be pretty cut up if you did.” Jemma blushed and shook her head.

“No, my currently single status was sort of the catalyst in this whole notebook plan.” They reached the place Ward had mentioned earlier and quickly grabbed a table. While Ward went to order, Jemma cracked open the page Fitz had marked with the ribbon.

 

_Dear Jemma,_

_So you asked to know what my favourite Christmas memory is. Well, I’ve got to be honest with you. I don’t have many. Not to sound too much like a downer, but its never really been my favourite time of year. Most of my relatives are scattered around the globe so it was always just me and my parents. Or it was. Most years they just fought, or we did nothing to make it any different then any other day, except for one year._

_See I moved from Scotland to New York when I was fourteen, just me and my Mum after my parents divorced. See her brother lives out here and we needed to get away from my Dad. But beforehand my parents didn’t want to let on they were splitting up, it being Christmas and all. So they put on happy faces and just for one day we were a proper family. We had a nice dinner, a proper tree, everything. Mum played the Christmas radio and Dad danced her around the living room. It just seemed so real I didn’t even question it. They told me the truth a few days later, saying I was moving away but would come back and visit during the Summer holidays. I know it probably sounds stupid, but, even though I know that they were only pretending, it still felt real. I try not to let their falseness tarnish that memory, it’s all I have in a way._

_Sorry going back and rereading this I realise it sounds incredibly self pitying, I didn’t mean it to come off like that. What I’m trying to say is they gave me something to hold on to, and for that I’m grateful._

_What’s your favourite Christmas memory Jemma? Please don’t leave me hanging after I just spilled out my emotional sob story, I could’ve used that for some kind of reality television program so I hope you appreciate that I gave it to you. I’m kidding, just in case you couldn’t tell. Reality television isn’t really my thing. Somehow I’ve started rambling through the written word, I didn’t even think that was possible._

_Anyway, I gave Ward paper for you to write your reply on, this notebook’s yours. It’s time you got it back._

_Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_Leo Fitz_

 

By them time she finished what he had written, Ward had sat back down and passed her the tea she’d requested, she’d barely noticed. Fitz had more than surprised her. He’d been so honest, about something that was clearly hard for him to talk about, it had to be. Ward slid over the paper Fitz had mentioned, a blue envelope as well, Jemma fished out her pen from her bag and got to work.

 

*

 

 

“Skye why didn’t you tell me Fitz was Scottish?” Jemma demanded as she strode into the apartment to find her cousin lying on the couch, switching between various channels.

“Didn’t I?” Jemma rolled her yes,

“No, you neglected to mention it.” Skye shrugged,

“Sorry, thought I did. Didn’t realise it was so important.” Jemma sighed and flopped down next to her cousin, resting her head against the back of the couch.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s not really. But, it just makes me feel as though, he would understand. About being away from home.” Skye looked over and placed her arm on Jemma’s shoulder,

“I get it, I know that’s something you still struggle with,” she said softly. Jemma gave her a half smile.

“It’s also another thing we have in common,” she pointed out. Skye grinned at her cousin,

“You’re getting pretty into this guy, pretty fast Jem.” Jemma shrugged,

“I know but, it feels right in a way. I mean the only communication we’ve had is through messages, I don’t know it’s different. Besides, I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“I could give you a full scale description,” Skye offered, Jemma shook her head.

“We could look him up!” Skye exclaimed, bouncing off the couch and running over to her laptop on the kitchen counter.

“No Skye come on,” Jemma insisted, “We really shouldn’t, we’d be invading his privacy.”

“It’s the internet, nobody has privacy,” Skye pointed out, opening up the screen and typing in his name. 

“No,” Jemma snapped, shutting the computer lid. “We can’t, I _can’t._ ”

“Fine,” Skye responded, opening up the screen once more. “You can’t but I can, come on Jemma, what if he’s some kind of criminal, don’t you want to at least check he’s got nothing too sketchy to his name?” 

“He sent his friend Ward to meet me.”

“That’s all circumstantial my friend,” Skye told her. Jemma breathed out a sigh of relent. 

“Fine, but I’m sitting over there and I’m not looking.” Skye rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the computer. 

“Aha! Found him, looks like he checks out,” She spun around to face her cousin, “so far.” 

Jemma groaned placing her head in her hands,

“Just hurry up, I feel like I’m breaking the rules. And you know how much I hate that.” Skye let out a laugh,

“Do I ever, okay he seems to be fine, nothing too creepy or jerky about him. And definitely cute,” she said with a wink. Jemma looked up from her hands,

“Really?”  
“Definitely, but I told you that already. Well, there you go,” she said, sliding off the chair and walking back to where Jemma was sitting,

“Looks like your mystery guy checks out. But then again a criminal probably wouldn’t use his real name…” Jemma elbowed the other girl playfully,

“Skye, stop.” 

“Sorry, sorry, just looking out for you,” she said. Jemma smiled at her,

“I know.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m going to this party tonight at this guy Hank’s house, you should come. Distract yourself from your pen pal for a bit.” Jemma smiled softly, 

“Okay, yeah sure, that sounds fun.”

“So what did you write as your response anyway?”

 

*

 

Fitz didn’t particularly enjoy parties, it was always Ward dragging him to one thing or another. But for some reason this time felt different. Ward had attempted to goad him with the idea of meeting some girl for a ‘hookup’. But for some reason that made him feel nothing but guilt. Which was strange, he wasn’t seeing anybody. Jemma certainly wasn’t his girlfriend, as much as he wanted her to be. So why shouldn’t he enjoy himself? He could at least try.

He needed something to distract him, Ward had said. His exact words being, “You need to distract yourself from your pen-pal for at least a few hours, as this is bordering on obsessive.” 

It wasn’t his fault that for some reason her words had gotten stuck in his brain.

 

_Dear Fitz, or Leo, whichever you prefer,_

_First of all, thank you for honesty. I know we are essentially strangers to one another in a way, but your honesty meant a lot to me. Secondly, I’m sorry, not just for what happened, but I never wanted to push for the details of your personal life, I hope I haven’t over-stepped. Thirdly, again thank you for sharing your reality show gateway story, it means a lot. As you said about your memory, you’ve given me something to hold on to, and for that I’m grateful._

_My own little piece of you._

_That sounded much smoother in my head. Anyway, you wanted to know what my favourite Christmas memory is, and I will now bless you with that information._

_It takes place last year, the 21st of December. The day I went home for the first time since leaving England. As much as I love my cousin and my aunt and uncle, I missed my immediate family terribly. My parents, my younger sister Lottie, well her full name’s Charlotte but we all call her Lottie. Anyway, on that day when my plane landed in Heathrow, and there they all were. Dad in his over-sized and well worn coat, Mum waving madly and Lottie with a ridiculous Christmas jumper. For some reason I’d never felt happier seeing my dorky little family. I felt young again coming home, not that I think I’m an adult or anything. But that feeling of walking along those familiar streets, with the familiar faces, it was like falling back into a dream. Back into old memories. I think it was the most grateful I’ve ever felt during Christmas time. I’m sorry if that sounded cheesy, feelings aren’t always easy to put into words. Thank you for giving me back the notebook, but I hope you don’t want our conversation to end._

_I don’t._

_Ward told me you’d left your number in it for me, but I wasn’t to look at it until after Christmas, your gift to me._

_I promise I’ll adhere to the rules, one last game._

_I look forward to (hopefully) hearing from you,_

_Love Jemma_

 

Fitz was pretty sure that this, whatever it was, was his new favourite Christmas memory. As he followed Ward through the house’s corridor, he couldn’t help but thinking how much he didn’t want to be here. He felt different, which sounded stupid but it was true. He wanted to go back to the Strand, find Jemma’s notebook, talk to her, finally hear her voice. 

Although at 11o’clock at night the store was most definitely shut. He hovered around Grant, chatting to a few of their mutual friends. There was a lot of people there he didn’t know there, he assumed they went to different schools. It had been two hours of pointless chatter and cheap beer when Ward pulled him aside.

“You okay?” He asked, Fitz nodded, 

“Fine just, I think I want to go home.” Ward raised an eyebrow,

“You sure? I mean it’s still pretty early-”

“I’m sure, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said shortly before making his way out of the house and pulling out his phone to call a cab as he went. He stepped outside, still staring at his phone, before smacking straight into someone. 

“Oh sorry, I’m so sorry,” the girl said as she brushed herself down, pulling her hair off her face. She was pretty, a petite brunette, but Fitz was too distracted to truly appreciate it. 

“No, my fault,” he mumbled, he looked up to see her staring with a puzzled expression.

“Are you- no, never mind.”

“What?” He asked,

“Sorry, no, I just, uh nothing, sorry again,” she replied, rushing back inside the house.

 

*

 

Ward didn’t feel too great about being abandoned, but Fitz had seemed pretty…off, and he knew better than to argue. But now he was wandering around, alone. It wasn’t too much fun. A light tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts as he turned to face a brunette girl smiling up at him.

“Wandering along by yourself huh? Have you been left alone too?” She asked,

“Yeah my friend just left.” She nodded, 

“Well I came with my cousin and she’s disappeared, said she needed to get air like fifteen minutes ago. I’m Skye by the way,” 

“Ward, well Grant, but I get called Ward.” Skye laughed,

“Okay then Ward.”

A moment later, a vaguely familiar brunette girl came dashing to Skye’s side. 

“Hi sorry, I know I was gone awhile, but I think I’m going to go home. I’m all over the place tonight. Crashing into people and tripping and uh, I think I need to go to bed. Is it okay if…” she trailed off when she saw his face,

“Ward?” 

“Jemma!” He exclaimed, firmly placing his arm on his shoulder.  “What are you doing here? You literally just missed Fitz!” Her expression changed to not one of disappointment, but mild horror.

“Oh god, I had a feeling when I heard the accent, but the chances were so slim that, oh goodness that was him?!” She sighed heavily, placing a hand to her forehead. 

“I’m sorry, I should go home. But you two have fun, I’ll see you in the morning Skye, and it was nice to see you again Ward.” She quickly dashed off faster than when she had arrived.

“So you’re Fitz’s friend,” Skye deduced.

“And you’re the girl that works at the book store.” Skye nodded in admission,

“What a coincidence.”

 

*

It was only the next day when she woke up that Jemma realised something was missing.

The notebook.

It was in her bag last night, and she’d rushed off from the party. Pretty much running out to the cab, and she’d tripped. She’d thought she collected all her belongings, evidently she hadn’t.

“Oh no,” Jemma moaned aloud before rushing into Skye’s room.

“Skye, I’ve ruined everything,” she said tearfully, sitting herself down on the edge of Skye’s bed. The other girl rubbed her eyes, she was barely awake.

“What? Jemma it’s 8 in the morning on a Saturday.”

“Sorry, but Skye, I’ve lost the notebook, I can’t find it anywhere! Fitz left me his email in there! Now he’s going to think I blew him off!”

Skye sat up, now fully awake,

“It’s okay! Don’t worry! After you left last night Grant told me that they go walking in Central Park, always go by some yoghurt stand around 11, so all we have to do is wait around there and we’re sure to bump into them.” Jemma narrowed her eyes at her cousin,

“That doesn’t exactly sound full proof.”  
“Well it’s the best we’ve got so get ready!” 

 

*

 

It was embarrassing really, how long she and Skye had been waiting in the same spot, trying not to look suspicious. Never in her life did she think that she would be waiting around in a park, during Winter, for a boy, who didn’t even know what she looked like. This was definitely mildly insane. Jemma sighed and turned to face her cousin,

“Skye, this is crazy, we can’t just stalk them out. I think-” Skye roughly grabbed her arm, breaking her off.

“Shut up! That’s them! That’s totally them!” She whispered excitedly pointing in their direction. 

_Oh god, that’s him_ Jemma thoughts seemed to be going at an even faster pace than usual, she was tempted to run. Take off around the block, and forget this whole thing. But she couldn’t because he was exactly how she’d pictured. He wasn’t too tall, but still had a decent few inches on her. His cropped mop of light brown curls sat in an unruly mess atop his head but still managed to come across as somewhat tidy, and his bright blue eyes were accentuated by his azure jumper.

He was perfect.

She needed to remember to breathe.

“Okay, I’ll leave you guys alone, go get him tiger,” Skye winked before dashing off, Jemma gulped and tried to get her breathing in order.

 

*

 

“Ward, what are you doing?” 

He’d been distracted the whole time they’d been out. Looking around constantly and checking his watch.

“Nothing, I uh, nothing.” Fitz gave him an incredulous look.

“Okay, sure.” 

They continued walking, past the crowds of families and making their way through the park. When they were near the line for the yoghurt stand, Ward grabbed his shoulder tightly.

“Don’t look now, but you’re mysterious pen-pal is nearby.” Fitz nearly jumped in shock,

“What! Where?” He asked, frantically looking around. Ward steered him by the shoulders to the right direction, signalling to a girl standing alone by a bench only a few feet away from them. It was really her. Fitz didn’t think Jemma was much like he imagined. Actually he couldn’t remember what he’d imagined because whatever it was she was definitely better. She was pretty, with wavy brown hair and big amber eyes that seemed to look right into you. She mirrored him in a way with her dress sense, a button up blouse and a pair of dark jeans sat underneath her thick dark green coat. He walked towards his before he got to nervous and changed his mind.

“I can’t say much for your espionage skills, but you do hold a lot of charm through the written word.”

_God he really should’ve thought of what to say before his mouth started moving for him.  
_ She blinked, startled, processing that this was real, _he_ was real. 

“I uh, was out for a walk…?” She tried lamely, breaking out into a grin when she realised how completely unbelievable she sounded. 

“I mean, hi, I’m Jemma, Simmons, I’m Jemma Simmons. Leo Fitz I presume?”

“Well, my full name’s actually Leopold, Leopold Fitz, Leo Fitz but uh, everyone calls me Fitz. Because Leopold sounds like my Grandad, and is also very embarrassing.”

She laughed.

He decided he liked her laugh.

“Sorry about running into you last night,” she said, absentmindedly picking at the sleeved of her coat.

“My fault really, I didn’t even know it was you. What are the chances hey?” She smiled again, playing with a piece of her hair.

“I was thinking-” Jemma began but was cut off by a shriek. 

“MY BABY!” Fitz turned abruptly to see a stroller hurtling towards them, a child inside and a mother running frantically after it. He surged forward, grabbing the contraption to steady the child inside. He fell on his stomach in the process unfortunately, however he’d expected to receive thanks for his tribulations. Instead he was given another shriek.

“THOSE KIDS ARE TRYING TO STEAL MY CHILD!” It was only then he realised that Jemma was leaning next to him, holding on to one of the wheels. They looked up to defend themselves, explain that, no, they weren’t going to steal a baby, but before Fitz could even get the words out a tight grip found its way to his forearm.

“You kids are coming with me,” a stern voice informed them. Fitz turned to see a Police Officer flash him an I.D. before pulling himself and Jemma towards his car.

His I.D. read Coulson, his expression read their certain doom.

 

*

 

Of all the places she could ever end up, jail was hardly one Jemma Simmons thought was in her future. She was trying not to panic, she’d been arrested, well she wasn’t too sure. They’d taken her and Leo down to the precinct, stuck them in a room asked for their versions of the story. Once they seemed satisfied they allowed them to call someone to pick them up, however they still weren’t allowed to leave where they’d been questioned. The glass she was staring at constantly reminding her this was real and she was most definitely in a lot of trouble.

“Sorry about all this,” came the voice next to her. Poor Fitz, while she’d been panicked, imagining scenarios of criminal records and 25 to life, he’d mainly looked guilty. She patted his arm lightly,

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault, or it’s at least as much yours as it is mine.” She pulled his wrist over to her to check the time, it’d been two hours.

“I’m doomed.”  
“Going to be in trouble?”

“Most likely, I called Skye to pick me up, hoping that it would all go unnoticed but I’m worried we may have been gone a little _too_ long.”  
“Sorry, again.”  
“Fitz! You have nothing to be sorry for! If anyone should be apologising it’s me, I’m the one who dragged you into all of this with the whole notebook fiasco,” Jemma insisted. Fitz shook his head,

“Fiasco? It wasn’t that at all, I mean yeah we did end up sort of incarcerated but…it was worth, to get to know you,” he mumbled the last bit, surprising himself by being so honest and well, forward. She turned slightly pink but smiled all the same.

“I’m glad I got to know you too.” Her hand covered his and Fitz’s brain started to short circuit.

“Jemma I-”

“Alright you two, you’re free to go.” The sound of an opened door and the words that followed from Officer Coulson interrupted anything Fitz could say. As they stood up and walked out to the corridor, she couldn’t help the pinch of disappointment that he wasn’t able to finish that particular sentence. 

 

*

 

“Hi I’m here about a Leo Fitz?” A voice interrupted Skye’s train of thought. She spotted the tall, dark haired, high cheek boned boy from the party standing at the desk. When he moved away to sit down nearby she walked over slowly,

“Fitz huh? I’m here for _Simmons_.” Ward looked up to see a brunette girl wearing jeans and a leather jacket standing next to him.

“No kidding,” he said with a smile, “I was wondering when I’d see you again.” 

“It was just a matter of time,” Skye said, “I knew those two would get themselves into trouble eventually.” An officer approached them before Ward could reply,  
“You’re friends will be out in a minute, I suggest you wait outside.” They nodded and walked to the front of the building, pushing open the glass door and walking out onto the street, pulling their coats closer to shield themselves from the cold.

“So how old are you anyway?” Ward asked,

“Seventeen. You?”  
“Eighteen, so it looks like I’m your superior.”  
“Just because you’re older than me doesn’t make you my superior. It just makes you one year closer to a walker and an on-call nurse.” Ward shook his head, amused and slightly impressed. The door they had just come out of opened once more, their friends standing before them, shivering slightly at the cold blast of ice wind.

“Hey it’s the detainees!” Skye exclaimed, pulling Jemma into a hug, Jemma pushed her off.

“I’m not a detainee!” She insisted, “it was merely a misunderstanding.”  
Skye snickered, “Whatever you say, you rebel.” Jemma rolled her eyes and turned to face Fitz,

“Well it was lovely to see you, meet you, well…know you I guess.” Fitz nodded,

“Yeah um you too.” His mind was screaming at him, _say something better you idiot, ask her out, something._ And if his brain wasn’t enough, he swore on his life Ward’s eyebrows had never been more expressive. He tried he really did, but he couldn’t get any words out.  
“I really mean it Leo, thank you, for everything.”

And she was right there, with snow falling on to her shoulders, her coat sleeves fraying at the edges.  She smiled once more, and in that moment, half in love with her, he watched her walk away, following Skye back to the car. She climbed in, waving once more, and they eventually drove away.

It was only then did Fitz realise he still didn’t have her number.

 

*

He needed to rectify the situation, immediately. After an hour of pacing in his room, sighing heavily, and banging his head against his bedroom wall, Fitz left his apartment to head back to where it all started.

The Strand. 

He ran, he didn’t really know why, it wasn’t if he was in that much of a rush but he felt like he needed to. In the movies they always ran.

Fitz didn’t know when he started basing moments in his life off typical tropes from romantic comedies.

When he finally reached store, he was out of breathe and pink in the face. Fitz exhaled heavily, pushed open the door and headed inside, going straight to the desk.

Lucky for him, the person he wanted to see was there.

“Skye,” he managed between breaths, clutching a very painful stitch in his side, “you have to help me.”  
The brunette looked up at him in surprise,

“Fitz? What are you doing here?” 

“I need to see Jemma, and you’re the only way I know how to get to her.” 

“Get to her?” Skye asked with a raised eyebrow. Fitz waved his hand in frustration,

“You know what I mean, please, can’t you just give me her number or something?” Skye gave him a pointed look,

“I can’t just give you her number. I don’t have her permission to give it to you.” Fitz rolled his eyes,

“Fine! Can I give you my number to give to her then?” He didn’t wait for an answer and grabbed a pen from her desk but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“No, wait, I’ve got a better idea. Come back here tonight, 9 o’clock,” she told him, a small smile on her face and a faraway look in her eye.  
“But doesn’t the store close at-”

“Just be there,” Skye said firmly, holding up her hand indicating the conversation was over. Fitz shrugged, he didn’t need to be told twice.

 

*

 

Fitz arrived at the Strand at approximately 8.58pm. He hadn’t wanted to care about what he looked like, but he couldn’t deny the fact he’d spent forty minutes staring at his closet, trying to decide what to wear. He tugged on the jumper he’d chosen, knocking on the store’s door. Several moments later he was greeted by messy brown curls and a small smile,

“Good you’re here,” Skye greeted, moving aside to let him in.

“So what am I doing here exactly?” Fitz asked, following her as she walked down the tall aisles.

“I needed your help with something,” she replied, not looking back at him. Fitz couldn’t help but feel a little anxious, he’d hoped Jemma would be here, he thought that had been the whole idea.

“Skye are you…” A voice interrupted his train of thought, and there she was, wearing the same cream blouse and bright smile. 

“Oh, hello Fitz,” she said cheerily, giving him a little wave.

“Hi, Jemma,” he managed in return. Skye was beaming.

“Anyway if you both follow me,” she directed. And they did, staying behind her as Skye briskly walked through the store, barely glancing in their direction at all. She stopped as they reached a locked door at the back.

“Here we are,” she said, pulling out her keys.

“What are we going to do in the basement?” Jemma asked sceptically, 

“Oh just moving stuff from storage,” Skye replied, unlocking the door. She pushed it open allowing them to walk inside. The room was fairly small, with a few boxes of packed books taking up a fair amount of its space. Fitz turned to ask Skye what she wanted him to do when the door slammed shut and the sound of a key in a lock followed it. Jemma immediately ran to the door, slamming on its wood.

“Skye! What are you doing? Let us out!” She yelled.

“Nope,” came Skye’s muffled voice from the other side, “you two will thank me one day, possibly tomorrow.” 

“Skye!” Jemma yelled again, but she was only responded to by the sound of Skye’s footsteps. Jemma turned around and leaned back against the door.

“I’m so naive, how could I think she wanted us to help her with storage?” She threw her hands up in exasperation and scoffed. Fitz walked over to where she was standing.

“Are we going to be here all night?” He asked, Jemma nodded grimly,

“Seems like it.” 

“Well we should then at least make the best of it,” Fitz told her, “twenty questions?” Jemma’s smile appeared once again, Fitz was glad he could put it there.

“Perfect.” 

 

*

 

It had been two hours of 20 questions, 

‘“What’s your favourite colour?’”

“Blue.”

“If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?”

“Zloda, Belaurs.”

“Who’s your favourite Avenger?”

“Tony Stark, definitely.”

Then I Spy, Hangman using the inside of a previously packed away book, and various other games to keep them entertained. Fitz could tell Jemma was a few minutes away from passing out as she leaned her head ever so slightly on his shoulder.

“You okay over there?” He asked, she gave him a sleepy smile.

“Just trying to stay awake.”  
“You can go to sleep if you want.” Jemma shook her head,

“No see the thing is, I’m waiting for you to kiss me.” Fitz lightly blushed at that. He’d wanted to, he’d definitely wanted to but he wasn’t sure whether being in a locked the storage room of a closed book store was an appropriate place for that, but to hell with it if Jemma wanted to kiss him.

He’d do just about anything for her.

Without another thought, he leaned in kissed her, however her head remained at an awkward angle and he couldn’t quite reach her properly, she started pressing to hard and it was, simply a mess. They pulled apart and looked it each other shyly, 

“Again?” Jemma questioned in a small voice. Fitz turned to face the girl beside him properly before obliging her request.

This time it wasn’t a mess, it was magic. He pulled her close, threading his finger through her soft curls. She lightly tugged on his shirt collar as he moved his mouth over hers, his other hand dropping to lightly splay across her waist. 

However it couldn’t last long as Fitz was pretty sure he might drop dead from his fatigue at this point.

“It’s okay Leo,” Jemma murmured, lightly kissing his jaw as he rested against her, “we’ve got lots of time now.”

He smiled, because they did.

 

end. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3


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